What Makes L Laugh
by Alex Prosper
Summary: Light knew L did not laugh, so his humiliation grew hotter when he heard guffaws from behind.


**Disclaimer: **Characters and affiliated material belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. No profit is made off this.

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L did not laugh. He smiled leeringly, a small uplifting of his face showing only the tip of his teeth with his thumbnail between them. Sometimes, when Light was annoyed, he would catch L with a little smirk. Once he had released a brief chortle through his nostrils when he found something clever enough to rouse amusement. But L never showed teeth, never let out any laughter through his lips.

Light knew L did not laugh, so his humiliation grew hotter when he heard unusual guffaws from behind. They were on the campus' quad. Light had been walking over to join L for a tennis match when a tall foreigner had bumped shoulders with him, causing him to drop his duffle bag.

"It isn't that funny, Ryuuzaki," he said through gritted teeth.

L grinned at him. Showed teeth. L had great teeth and a handsome smile—which rankled Light since the only reason he discovered that was through his own embarrassment.

"I think so. It was a random and hilarious moment in Light Yagami's inexorably strict life."

Light rubbed a burning butt cheek. He knew he had a handprint glowing bright red.

When Light had bent over to pick up his duffel, the foreigner, a scrupleless American no doubt, had turned around and given him a firm, resounding slap on his ass. Light had _yelped. _His face grew hot at the memory.

"Nice ass. Let me hit it sometime," the foreigner had yelled in English over his shoulder as he walked away. Light understood the language perfectly and L knew that.

That was when L laughed. It was a surprisingly gravelly sound, very loud, in stark contrast to the otherwise quiet velvet-smoothness of L's voice. He stood in his characteristic hunch, duffle bag hung from one shoulder, looking straight at Light with his mouth wide open as it released that stupid ugly sound. His gaping eyes, normally inexpressive, were full of fucking mirth -creases even marked their corners; and the nasolabial folds stretched wide and prominent around his mouth made him look older than usual.

"Shut the fuck up, Ryuuzaki."

"Language, Light-kun. How is your buttock?"

Light adjusted the duffle's strap over his shoulder and strode past L, head high, ignoring the silly question. He heard L's soft steps follow him. "Light-kun, just out of curiosity, are you gay?"

"No," he answered with a sneer.

Silence. Then: "You do have a 'nice ass'. Perky. Like a pair of water balloons."

He slew around and came face to face with a smirking countenance. Up until that moment their exchanges had always been cordial, their verbal assaults heavily veiled with polite words. Light needed to affect friendliness with L to get closer to him, he knew that. However, his ass was slapped moments ago and L fucking _laughed_ at him. "Are you asking me to hit you?"

"Did I ask that?"

"Stop looking at my ass, Ryuuzaki."

"You must have heard wrong. I was complimenting you on your _assets_. Assets are good. They give you advantages."

With an exasperated sigh, Light asked, "What exactly is my advantage in this?"

"Were you not complaining about your old racket before?"

"Yeah. So?"

"If you get a sugar-daddy he can buy you a new one."

Light bit his bottom lip in an effort to repress his urge to hit L. The smug bastard would probably enjoy making the usually urbane and soft-spoken Light Yagami cause a scene at school.

L arched an eyebrow at Light and, as if reading his mind, said, "I'm an excellent hand-to-hand combatant, Light. The commotion would be great, and your reputation would suffer - your father might not even let you join us in the investigation anymore. It was prudent to think twice before acting foolishly on impulse."

Ignoring L - and his stupid smirk - Light turned and walked off to the tennis court, L at his heels. He thought of all the ways he could dampen that humor. To be sure, L would hate it if Light refused to play tennis seriously, letting the detective win trifling victories that would do the opposite of stroking his enormous ego. Light could stubbornly use his old racket as an excuse to say his game was off (never mind that he could afford a new racket on his own). Then L would have no choice but to buy him a new one. That would get him to shut up.

And so Light set out to accomplish that goal.

Of course, he forgot L's annoying sense of humor and that he would later use that to call himself Light's sugar daddy.

**[FIN]**


End file.
